Fires Fade
by GoddessOfTechnology
Summary: Sometimes, you had to make sacrifices, whether for yourself, or for someone else, and Jack would gladly give the world to keep his newfound friends safe. But when payments are demanded in the blood and bone of the innocent, doubts emerge, and he finds himself wondering if he made the right choice...(rated T for blood)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Why am I starting another story  
**

 **Seriously, why**

 **Why**

 **WHY**

 **...**

 **Well, I hope you guys like laboratory stories, is all I'm gonna say...**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RotG. Also, the cover image is a painting by Andreas Brugger, and is thus in the public domain.** **  
**

* * *

 _"_ _But there's no sense crying  
Over every mistake.  
You just keep on trying  
Till you run out of cake.  
And the science gets done,  
And you make a neat gun  
For the people who are  
_ _ **Still alive.**_ _"_ _-_ "Still Alive" from the game "Portal"

* * *

 _It was dark, and it was cold, and he was scared._

 _The scene was not unfamiliar to him. A torn, crumbling room of an equally torn and crumbling mansion, with grimy, scratched windows that revealed little but for the oppressive cloud of fog surrounding the building. Dust covered every available surface, furniture was rotten and mangled, tapestries were ripped and slashed. He knew this place, yes, and he knew it well._

 _Too well. Well enough, indeed, that he knew precisely what was going to happen next, and that he would be powerless to stop it._

 _He turned slowly, examining every corner of the place. Frost was already creeping over the floor, swallowing the room inch by inch, and gradually, as it spread further, he felt a little safer._

 _Not for long._

 _"_ _Which one?"_

 _He turned around sharply to find himself face to face with an old man who reminded him vaguely of an aardvark, if an old and slightly decrepit-looking aardvark. The old man smiled a vicious and crooked smile, teeth sharp and twisted, and thrust both of his wizened hands towards him._

 _"_ _Which one?"_

 _He glanced at the man's hands, uncertain. In one hand lay a blue marble, the color of a sea in springtime, while in the other lay a red marble, crimson_ _like a raven's blood._

 _"_ _You choose the red one, your friends die and you walk away free. You choose the blue one, your friends live but you stay and work for me. Simple, ain't it? So, which will it be, Frost? Want to see how far down this rabbit hole goes?" *****  
_

 _A faint thought lingered at the corner of his mind, to kill the man and be done with it, but he knew it was not that simple. In this place, life and death were indeterminate things, and something that was dead one moment could be alive the next. It was too big a risk to take._

 _The old man's gray eyes seemed to burn into his soul, as he tentatively reached out for, and grabbed, the blue marble._

 _All was still._

 _Then, the old man's face changed. It twisted and writhed, snarling in savage triumph, a glittering of victory in the stone-gray eyes._

 _It was his only warning before the house burst into flame._

 _With a startled yelp, he rushed swiftly to the window, the only immediately obvious venue of escape, He pulled furiously, but the cursed thing was locked, and attempts to break it ended only in abject failure. Panting, frightened, he then attempted to ward off the flames with his powers, but found to his horror that they had mysteriously disappeared, leaving him helpless._

 _By now, he was desperate to escape. The heat burned, scorching into his skin and leaving harsh burns on his face, arms, and feet. Before he knew it, his cloak was aflame, shirt and pants soon following, and he screamed in agony as his flesh burned and boiled away, making way for the fire to reach his heart._

 _Finally, the flames devoured his heart and soul, and in the midst of the wildest agonies, he suddenly gave in. Emptiness followed agony, disinterest followed pain, and for good reason, for what is a spirit without a heart and soul?_

 _He stared vacantly at the burning ceiling, aware and yet unaware of the flames still eating away at him. He was too tired to fight, yet too stubborn to die, doomed to lay in limbo between one and the other forevermore._

 _He closed his eyes, just as the last of his center_ _crumbled to ashes._

* * *

 _(Bunk 23, Floor 2,_ _Sector 3 (S.O.B [Study of Otherworldly Beings]), Erutrepa ***** Science Facility, Upper Michigan, USA)_

 _(June 15, 2016)_

 _Ring._

 _Ring._

 _Ring._

As if by a strike from a lightning bolt, he was snapped out of his horrible nightmare, trembling and gasping, by the familiar sound of his wall phone ringing shrilly. He reached out for the handset before he was even fully awake, unhooking it from the base and holding it to his ear, prescripted message flowing out in a harsh monotone. "Principal Investigator ***** Jack Frost of E.S.F., Sector 3, speaking. State your name, sector, and business."

A voice, calm and collected, crackled over the line, equally flat. "Researcher Thomas Articaw of E.S.F., Sector 3, speaking. Test subjects 4209, 4210, and 4211 have escaped again."

A sigh. "How long ago?"

"Three minutes going on four, tops."

"...Put floors three, four, and five on lock-down, send out security, and report to me with updates every half hour."

"Wilco. ***** "

The line promptly went dead, and Frost placed the handset back in its place, a small pang of regret in his chest. He felt sorry for the three, he truly did, but his own life, as well as those of his four still-missing coworkers, was at stake. Unless he wanted to ruin all chance of escape, he could only keep his head down and follow protocol.

Quietly praying that the others were still alive and well, wherever they were, the Principal Investigator of S.O.B Laboratories began to get ready for another day of testing.

* * *

By the time he made it to the laboratories, casual clothing exchanged for a pristine white lab coat, the three missing test subjects had been recaught. They were being dragged to their respective cells, kicking and screaming, and he watched dispassionately as they fought tooth and nail to get away.

 _For dryads, they are remarkably vicious,_ he mused. _Then again, anyone would be if they were stuck in this place for long._

 _ **Except for you. You chose the weak way, the coward's way, didn't you?**_

He shivered slightly, and looked to see if the lab's security personnel needed help. However, his staff, human as they were, seemed to be handling the situation well, so he ignored the squabble and slipped quietly into his office, closing the scratched and pockmarked door behind himself. Sighing tiredly, he sat down at his desk.

Three minutes passed before he realized he had yet to accomplish any actual work. Instead, he was staring vacantly at the wood grain of the desk.

It was a lovely desk, really. Made of rosewood, and coated with a varnish that only emboldened the distinctive red of the wood. It looked almost as if blood itself had somehow been incorporated into the varnish. *****

 _Perhaps it was_ , he thought with a sigh.

Guilt still gnawed at times. Although he had quashed his emotions and buried his morals, days remained when he was trapped in the agony of paralyzing guilt, when he thought of what Tooth or North or Sandy or Bunny would think of him now. Doubtless they would believe him to be heartless, cruel, dangerous...a murderer.

They would be right.

He had killed, certainly. He had seen as members of his own kind writhed and wailed on the operating table, blood flowing freely. He had watched, frozen, as they went mad and were either restrained or destroyed, and all thanks to him. It haunted him, and it would haunt him to his grave.

What choice did he have, though? It was either kill or be killed, hurt or be hurt. In this world, the strong prevailed and the weak fell. If he wanted to have a fighting chance of ever seeing his friends again, he had to survive.

 _ **But at what cost? Would you rather die a noble death, or live a coward's life? Would you rather show yourself to your companions as a dead hero, or as a living murderer with hands still steeped in other's blood?**_

He shivered again, wincing, as he abruptly turned to the filing cabinet on his left and pulled up the files for test No. 481516 ***** , desperate for something to occupy his churning mind with. According to Donovan, some correlation had been found between dryad blood and vigorous plant growth. Apparently, if one sprinkled the ground with the substance, anything planted there would grow into a magnificently large plant. How interesting.

 _ **Too bad it took the death of fifteen of them to figure it out, huh? You filthy murderer.**_

He shivered for the third time, and then went back to work.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **1-The red marble and the blue marble, as well as the line about the rabbit hole, are all references to "The Matrix".**

 **2-"Erutrepa Science" is a vague reference to the _Portal_ video games, which occur in a twisted science laboratory that does tests on human beings, often killing them. The name of the laboratory is "Aperture Science", and Erutrepa is Aperture spelled backwards.**

 **3-A Principal Investigator (also known as a PI) is essentially the lead researcher and head of the lab in a laboratory study.**

 **4-"Wilco" is a radio procedure word that is short for "** **I understand and will comply". Contrary to popular belief, "wilco" and "roger" are never used together, as it would be redundant: "wilco" includes the acknowledgement of "roger".  
**

 **5-This remark on the unusual red varnish is a vague reference to "The Red Violin", a Canadian drama film about a violin that had been made with blood in the varnish, giving the violin an unusual red color. The violin soon became legendary, as whoever played it mysteriously died afterwards.**

 **6-481516 is a reference to _Lost,_ which is a TV show about people stranded on a deserted (or so they think) island. The numbers 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, and 42 are seen multiple times throughout the show.**

 **Also, some of you may be wondering why Jack doesn't simply freeze the whole place and leave, or why the human scientists of S.O.B. laboratories can see him. To you, I can only say...you will see! You will see!**

 **...Review?**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Here, have an update.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RotG.**

* * *

 _"Last things last_  
 _By the grace of the fire and the flames_  
 _You're the face of the future, the blood in my veins, oh ooh_  
 _The blood in my veins, oh ooh_  
 _But they never did, ever lived, ebbing and flowing_  
 _Inhibited, limited_  
 _Till it broke open and rained down_  
 _You rained down, like..._

 _Pain!_  
 _You made me a, you made me a believer, believer_  
 _Pain!_  
 _You break me down, you build me up, believer, believer_  
 _Pain!_  
 _Oh let the bullets fly, oh let them rain_  
 _My life, my love, my drive, it came from..._

 _ **Pain!** "-_"Believer" by Imagine Dragons

* * *

 _(Floor 1 ***** ,_ _Sector 3 (S.O.B [Study of Otherworldly Beings]), Erutrepa Science Facility, Upper Michigan, USA)_

 _(June 16, 2016, 9:20 AM)_

Someone was screaming in the operating room.

He had a good idea who they were. Test subject 5811, a river nymph, was scheduled for operation that day, supposedly to determine how changes in her genetic makeup affected her powers. Indeed, he would have believed that story, if the experiment hadn't already been repeated four times during his 'employment', each time with the same results.

An agonized scream echoed from the locked and bolted door, and he winced before going back to tallying equipment. It was a well-known fact that the Laboratory Director ***** considered using anesthetic and antiseptic for operations as a waste, and as a result, screams and shrieks were the norm at S.O.B. Laboratories.

 _It's a wonder no one has gone insane yet._

Having determined to his satisfaction that there were precisely twenty-three packs of filter paper, he switched to counting the face masks. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a couple of interns glancing nervously at the closed doors of the operating room, and he gave them both a stern look that clearly said "get back to work".

They did, both scowling at him. They would likely consider him heartless, but it was necessary. The Director didn't like it when people tried to interfere with his so-called 'work', and many a young intern had died that way.

 _If murder and torture could be considered 'work', that is._

 _ **Oh, and you're so much better? If you consider him so low, then why don't you stop him instead of sinking to his level?**_

 _It's not like I have much of a choice, you know._

 _ **Excuses, excuses. That's just what you like to tell yourself.**_

 _I'm serious. If I interfere, the only thing I'll accomplish is the signing and stamping of my own death sentence._

 _ **Which is better, death in honor or life in infamy?**_

He sighed, closed his eyes briefly, and then reopened them. They were dull and glazed, even as he went back to counting masks, even as screams split the air.

* * *

( _Globe Room, North's Workshop, North Pole)_

 _(June 16, 2015, at 2:31 PM EDT*)_

"North? What are you doing?"

Tooth was...well, to put it mildly, she was concerned. Lately, North had been behaving more or less like a madman, from the first triumphant cry of "I've found him!" six months ago, to the recent slipping of a temporary appearance-changing potion into their food.

...A potion that made them look like _humans,_ as far as she could tell. She glanced nervously over her shoulder, long hair weighing her head down in an unfamiliar way, to see that yes, indeed, her wings were now missing. Fabulous.

Although, she still wasn't sure how he managed to slip the potion in her food. She and her fairies always kept their food supplies under constant, jealous supervision, in order to guard against potential assassinations...

Unless they hadn't. Her fairies loved her, but they _adored_ Jack. It wasn't unreasonable to assume that they might have bent the rules for North, just a little, just enough to help bring Jack home.

 _Damn it._

Bunny looked just as annoyed as she felt, if not more so. Practically snarling, he stomped forward, the heavy brown boots that now adorned his human feet smacking harshly against the floor of the Workshop. "Just what the hell do ya think yer doin', mate?"

North's voice was somber, even as streaks of black were swiftly replacing the white of his hair, giving him a faintly zebra-like appearance. "I am doing what I believe is necessary, my friend."

"Necessary? How the bloody hell is this _necessary_?"

The beard abruptly vanished, showing a younger-looking North underneath. "Because it is better that we arrive at Erutrepa as potential interns, instead of as spirits."

Tooth forgot her irritation at her wingless-state, curiosity taking hold. "Whoever said anything about going to Erutrepa?"

North took one last vial of the lilac-colored potion and nonchalantly poured it over Sandy, who was sleeping. It soaked into the golden sand, and a lilac-colored exclamation mark formed briefly over the awakening Sandman's head before he too, was turned into a human with a faint _pop_. "I do."

"North, Manny told us to wait-"

North seemed to snap at that moment, eyes narrowing. "I am tired of waiting! We have been waiting for six months, my friends, and it has been six months too long! Oh, it is easy for Manny to say 'wait' but while we wait, Jack is getting hurt, and the longer we wait the more he is hurt."

"North, we don't know what's happening. Just because they study spirits doesn't mean they're cruel-"

"Ah, but let me stop you there, Toothy. They _are_ cruel, and I am living proof of it."

A dull silence oppressed them, as they glanced at each other nervously. All of them remembered the time when North had gone missing for two weeks, and had returned a bloody, gibbering mess, ranting about "scientists" and "murderers". It took ten days of steady care before he told them what had really happened, and they had all done their best to forget it.

North broke the silence with a heavy sigh. "You see, friends, I suffered much. I still have nightmares, even now. But I suffered for only two weeks, while Jack has been trapped for six months. Who knows how badly he has been hurt, while we have 'waited'?"

The guilty silence seemed to stretch for eternity. They shared a glance, considering.

Rolling his eyes, Bunny stepped forward, Tooth and Sandy following suit. The rabbit-turned-human sighed as he tapped his foot impatiently. "Alright, mate, lead the way."

North smiled bitterly, even as he took a snowglobe off a nearby table and shook it. "Erutrepa Science, in Upper Michigan!"

Then, he smashed it against the ground, and all four jumped through the portal that formed, without a moment of hesitation.

* * *

 _(Floor 1, Sector 3 (S.O.B [Study of Otherworldly Beings]), Erutrepa Science Facility, Upper Michigan, USA)_

 _(June 16, 2016, 3:11 PM)_

"I didn't do it! I swear!"

The intern looked terrified, her brown eyes filled with fear and confusion. She looked to Frost for help, but he turned away, even as guilt stabbed his heart.

The Director glared at the intern, amber gaze burning. "And why do I have the distinct impression that you are lying, young lady?"

She stumbled backwards, breath catching. "I don't even know where most of the rooms are, let alone the plans! I've never been to the basement! This is only my third day! Please, you have to believe me!"

"I don't have to believe anything you say, my dear. I only need to believe my eyes, ears, and brain, and they tell me you stole them."

"I didn't! I swear I didn't!"

The Director's eyes flashed angrily, and he drew a small gun, holding it within inches of her face. The entire lab froze in shock, none of the personnel able to ignore the drama unfolding in front of them. He gave a cruel, twisted smile, and inched the muzzle of the gun towards her forehead. "You know, dear, we don't tolerate liars in Sector 3."

She looked speechless. She gazed at everyone in the room, begging for help, but none stepped forward to shield her.

The gun drew closer. "Nor do we tolerate thieves."

She stood frozen, face pale, eyes blank.

"So, with all the regret I can possible muster, dear...I'm afraid to say that you are _fired."_

The gun went off, and she fell limply to the ground, eyes glazed over as blood dripped from the hole in her forehead. Silence prevailed.

He looked down at the corpse at his feet, face expressionless, before he glanced around the still lab. Practically everyone was staring at him in horror, jobs forgotten as they struggled to process what had just happened. Frowning, he raised one thin gray eyebrow. "Well? Don't let me stop you, carry on with your work."

They slowly returned to their duties, one by one, as the Director left the room.

From his corner, Frost quietly sighed.

* * *

 _(June 16, 2016, 4:08 PM)_

"New arrivals to see you, Frost."

He gently placed file No. 481523 down on his rosewood desk, as he inwardly sighed. He always hated it when new arrivals came in. They were invariably hopeful, naive, and excited, and he detested watching as one by one, their hopes were crushed and replaced with a dark depression and a biting anger.

No one deserved that. No one, except perhaps himself.

"Let them in, Donovan."

He didn't even glance at the door as Donovan left and four figures entered. Instead, he smiled a clearly fake smile, as he began mechanically rattling off his usual spiel. "Welcome to Sector 3 of the Erutrepa Science Facility. How may I help y-"

As he spoke, he finally glanced at the prospective interns, and stopped abruptly.

Four shocked and horrified faces were staring at him, each unfamiliar and yet strangely familiar to him. His heart turned to lead in his chest as his brain finally clicked as to who they were.

 _The Guardians._

 _Oh, hell, no._

* * *

 **A/N: And, just like that, everything goes to hell in a hand-basket. Fabulous.  
**

 **I have the feeling this chappie's a little rushed, but meh. I tried. In my defense, introducing the Guardians later would have involved a chapter full of filler, and chapters full of filler are not my thing.**

 **Now for notes!**

 **1-I feel like I need to explain a few things about the building plans of Sector 3. Feel free to skip if architecture bores you.**

 **Sector 3 is a single building. From the top, it looks like a rectangle with a hollowed-out center as a courtyard. The courtyard is basically just some pavement with a few sickly plants lying around in pots. It's very dreary.**

 **In total, there are ten floors: two basement floors for storage (only one, technically, as the lower basement has been flooded since 2001 and no one goes down there anymore), and eight upper floors. Floor 1 contains the laboratory, as well as ten operating rooms and more storage facilities, floor 2 contains the living spaces for all personnel, and floors 3 through 8 contain cells with test subjects.**

 **Each test subject has a four-digit number, which is their floor number followed by three more-or-less random digits (rooms are not numbered). Whenever new test subjects are brought in or killed, they're either added to or removed from the Sector's computer database, which automatically checks to make sure no two test subjects have the same number, on top of containing all information that is pertinent to the test subjects.**

 **Why do they still use paper files, then, instead of doing everything by computer? Because Sector 3 didn't switch to using computers until 2005, and since then files have been fairly messed up, since some personnel downright refuse to switch to the new system. As a result, some files are stored on computers, some are printed on paper, and the rest are 'lost'. Yeah, Sector 3 has severe organization problems. Either that or all of its staff are being passive-aggressive. Actually, it's probably the latter.  
**

 **2-I couldn't find much on ranking in laboratories, but from what I can tell, it goes somewhat like this (from highest to lowest):**

 **-CEO (Chief Executive Officer)**

 **-COO (Chief Operating Officer)**

 **-Lab Director**

 **-Lab Supervisor**

 **-Principal Investigator**

 **-Various assorted jobs of equal rank**

 **Jack holds the combined roles of Supervisor and Investigator. He is outranked by the Director. Therefore, he can't really do anything to stop the Director.**

 **3-Time zones in Upper Michigan are a little skewed. In June (during DST) most counties follow** **Eastern Daylight Time, but four counties that border Wisconsin are on Central Daylight Time, which has an hour's time difference. Erutrepa is located in the part that's on EDT. (Actually, if you're that interested, it's located close to Whitefish Point.)  
**

 **Also, I put it in EDT because the North Pole has freaky time zones, and I couldn't be bothered to mess around with the time zones of a place that has days that are over six months long.**

 **...Review?**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I would like to thank WinterCrystal1009 for her incredible work in betareading this chapter. Without her, this chapter would have been a good deal worse. Thank you,** **WinterCrystal1009!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RotG.**

* * *

 _"I have no heart, just ice and stone  
Made up of nails and teeth and bone  
And I know exactly what I'm for  
To hurt and destroy and nothing more_

 _And if it's true that I was made_  
 _I still don't know if I can change_  
 _But something has stirred_  
 _A beast has awakened_  
 _Opened a door_  
 _There's no mistaking_  
 _Waging a war_  
 _It's fighting inside of me_  
 _So hear my battle cry_  
 _I'm out for blood to claim what's mine_  
 _Finally questioning_  
 _If I am my own worst_  
 _I am my own worst_  
 _ **I am my own worst enemy** "_-"Battle Cry", by Beth Crowley

* * *

 _(Floor 1, Sector 3 (S.O.B [Study of Otherworldly Beings]), Erutrepa Science Facility, Upper Michigan, USA)_

 _(June 16, 2016, 4:09 PM)_

A long, profoundly awkward silence stretched interminably while the Guardians stared at Jack, and Jack stared back. If a pin decided to drop at that precise moment, you would be able to hear it several meters away.

Eventually, Jack found his voice. He did not, however, use it in the most intelligent way.

"...Er, hi?"

Like a taut rope coming apart, three of the previously stunned Guardians snapped out of their shell-shocked states and began yelling angrily, causing Jack to visibly cringe. Meanwhile, Sandy began to gesture feverishly in an attempt to get the three to shut up but was largely ignored.

"What the hell, mate?!"

"Jack, how could you?"

"What is meaning of this?"

This, and comments along the same lines, continued for a good three minutes, during which Jack felt increasingly guilty, and Sandy continued to flail. When finally there was a slight break in the torrent of indignation, Jack still felt compelled to lodge in a weak protest, "Look, I can explain-"

"Like hell you can!"

"What's there to explain?"

"You betrayed us!"

By this time, Jack was wishing that the ground would simply open up and swallow him. Sheepishly, he slid down a few inches behind the desk. He then stopped, thought a little, and slid some more.

It was three more minutes of verbal abuse and five more inches of sliding later, when salvation unexpectedly appeared in the form of a, for lack of a better word, _growl._

"Is there a problem?"

A strange quietude descended over the room, and Jack took the opportunity to peek out over the desk. "Donovan *****?"

A tall, stern-looking woman, presumably Donovan, was standing in the doorway, glowering fiercely at them. Her expression gave the impression that she regularly dined on nails, drywall, and broken glass, and she had the aura of someone who was about three seconds away from tearing your throat out with their teeth. Her entire pose practically screamed "no-nonsense army soldier", despite the fact that she wasn't in the army, but was instead a laboratory technician who doubled as a secretary.

She looked down her aquiline nose at the four Guardians, blue eyes sharp and scornful. "I could hear your ruckus from three corridors away. Stop that racket or I'll rip you into quarters, strangle you with your own intestines, and call security to escort you out. And not necessarily in that order."

The four exchanged terrified glances, before they all shut their mouths with a sharp _clack_. Satisfied that the culprits were now effectively silenced, Donovan turned to Frost, who was still crouching behind the desk. "Are you hurt, Frost?"

"No, Donov-"

"Then stand up properly, or sit in your chair. You are not a pangolin ***** , so curling up like one won't help anyone."

Shamefacedly, Frost obediently rose from his hunched position behind the desk and sat down in his chair. Donovan then switched her attention to the gaping Guardians. "Now, I don't know who you are or how you happen to know Frost, but I will be frank with you and say that you four," she paused when Sandy stepped away, looking horrified and shaking his head, "alright, _three_ , are the rudest bunch of arrogant snobs I have ever met. From what little I have heard of your diseased, deafening rantings, you seem to be under the erroneous impression that our Principal Investigator is here of his own free will. Allow me to correct you."

Purposefully, she stomped over to Frost and, ignoring his protests, grabbed his left arm. She pushed up the sleeve of the white lab coat, revealing a thin, shiny, steel bracelet fitted tightly around his wrist.

"You see that? _That_ is the Erutrepa Science Magic-Suppressor and Revealer *****. As long as he wears it, and he has little choice in the matter, he is as powerless as you or I, as well as visible to every human. As a spirit, normally he would have powers and be invisible to us, but without these abilities he is practically helpless."

She then let go of Frost's wrist, much to his obvious relief. Ignoring his winces, she continued. "On top of that, all of us are under nearly constant supervision, and none of us are here willingly. _I_ am not. As for Frost, I'm not entirely sure, but I believe he himself is somehow being blackmailed into this."

She gave them a moment to absorb this. "Now, if I had the power to do so, I would gladly pummel you three for being insensitive pricks. As it is, however, we are incredibly short-staffed, so we will be forced to allow you to have your internship here."

She grinned darkly. "Personally, I think you would have been better off with just the pummeling."

With a parting glare at them, Donovan marched out of the room.

There was a hushed silence as they watched her leave, door slamming shut behind her. Then, as one, the Guardians turned to Jack questioningly for an explanation.

He sighed tiredly, suddenly feeling extremely old. "...It's a lengthy and complicated story. Also, I think I need some coffee. This has been a long day."

* * *

 _(June 16, 2016, 4:34 PM)_

Cup of steaming coffee held securely in his hand, Jack Frost felt that he was now ready to deal with the problems that had somehow sprouted up from a multitude of other problems, which in their turn had _also_ sprouted up from a vast number of _other_ problems, which had also sprouted up from _even more problems_ -

...Actually, maybe he wasn't ready to deal with all the problems quite yet. There were a lot of them.

Shrugging, he downed the last of the coffee and placed the empty cup on his desk. After considering it, he opened his filing cabinet, chose a random file, opened it, took the cup, emptied the coffee grounds inside the file, placed the cup back down, closed the file, and put the file back inside the cabinet before turning to the waiting Guardians as if nothing had happened. *

There. That was better. Now he was ready to deal with the problems.

He cleared his throat, and began rather lamely. "...I guess you're all very surprised."

"Not really," growled Bunny, glaring darkly at Jack.

"Bunny," admonished Tooth.

Jack was suddenly consumed by a fierce desire to hide underneath the desk again. With a strong effort, he resisted the urge, opting instead for a dry, clearly fake laugh. "Ha ha. Very funny, Bunny."

If it was even possible, Bunny's second glare was more hateful than the first. "That. Wasn't. A. Joke."

Had it been six months ago, Jack would have eagerly and vehemently contested that remark. As it was, he simply didn't have the strength to deal with that. Utterly fed up with the guilt and the pain, he decided to simply quit fighting.

"You know what? Fine. Think whatever you want to think. I know by now that there's no changing your mind when you're set on something. If you're determined to believe that I'm a coward and a traitor, who am I to correct you? Heck, you might even be _right!_ "

He wasn't sure when exactly his speech had turned into a rant, but he was past the point of caring. A nerve had snapped at Bunny's comment and now all the anger that had slowly been building up over the past six months was boiling over.

Tooth seemed to see this, and in a quiet, calming voice, she attempted to diffuse the situation. "Jack, we were too hasty. We should have listened to your side of the story. We're so—"

 _"No, you aren't!"_

His chair smacked harshly against the wall behind him as he jumped to his feet. His resolution to stop fighting was ruined with that apology, that stupid, pathetic apology, which an earthworm knew was insincere. One could tell from miles away that she still believed he was a monster.

He could have said he, himself, thought that he wasn't fit to live. Though, that wasn't the problem.

No, the problem was the lying. He might be a fiend, he might be a brute, but he still felt he was at least entitled to hearing the truth from his former friends. Didn't he have a right to that, at least?

….Then again, maybe he didn't.

The thought, depressing as it was, was enough to finally crush him. Sighing, the red fading from his vision, he abruptly slumped back down into his chair and proceeded to stare vacantly at the wood grain of the desk*.

The Guardians, on the other hand, were startled. Jack had looked ready to fight, ready to chew them out royally, but something stopped him in his tracks. The old Jack, the Jack they all knew, would never back down from a fight so quickly.

They took in his defeated posture, his haunted gaze, and the dark circles painted beneath his eyes. He looked utterly broken and dispirited, and as they looked at him, really looked at him this time, a terrifying thought came to their minds.

 _Perhaps,_ they thought, _perhaps there is no getting him back, after all._

 _Perhaps he is really, **truly,** gone._

 _Perhaps he has been breaking, cracking, fading, little by little all this while, and we have finally pushed him over the edge._

Donovan's words came to mind:

 _None of us are here willingly._

 _He's practically **helpless.**_

...How did it feel? To be forced to aid someone who was a fiend? To be held against your will, friendless and powerless, and watch as people died, and you couldn't do anything about it?

They didn't know, but they knew enough to realize that their behavior was very, very wrong indeed.

Of course, now they had to fix it.

But how?

 _Thud._

A sharp pain stabbed Bunny in the shin, and he looked down to see Sandy glaring at him. The little man pointed at him and then at Jack, his message clear. Eyes widening, Bunny shook his head, and Sandy frowned before kicking him again in the shins.

After three more kicks, Bunny finally gave in with a roll of the eyes, and stepped forward.

The movement, however slight, seemed to trigger Jack. As if suddenly reminded that he was not alone in the room, he abruptly looked up, fake smile on his face as if nothing had happened. "Will that be all?"

Bunny stopped, unsure how to proceed. He was still angry at Jack, he couldn't deny it, but he also had to admit that he acted like a blithering idiot. As much as he wanted to simply yell some more at his problems, he knew that wasn't enough to fix them.

He sighed. "Listen, mate...I'm not entirely sure yet who's in the right and who's in the wrong here. But I'm willing ta listen ta yer side of the story, if ya'd care ta tell it."

It wasn't an apology, _per se_ , but it seemed to work. The fake smile on Jack's face lost a little of its pretense. "Really?"

Bunnymund nodded.

Jack took a shaky breath. "Alright, then...alright..."

He firmly gripped the arm of his office chair to steady himself, and then launched into a short narrative of how exactly he'd gotten into this position, and what he had suffered over the last half a year. When he finally finished, Tooth looked aghast, North was somber, Bunny seemed downright _guilty,_ and Sandy was quietly shaking his head and tutting silently.

"And now that we got that cleared up, I should probably go ahead and cancel your internships."

Bunny immediately refused, "No way, mate. We're staying until we manage ta get ya out of here."

He had half a mind to decline since all of them looked determined to stay, and he doubted he could get them to change their mind. He shrugged. "Your funeral, I suppose. If you want to stay I guess I can't stop you."

North suddenly appeared chagrined, as if he just remembered something distressing. "You can't, _moi mal'chik_. But I see slight problem..."

"What?"

"Well, we took a potion. One that makes us look like humans. But there is one issue with it..."

"...Well?"

"...It wears off after twelve hours.*"

Everyone stared at him.

"We have ten hours left."

More staring.

"And I have no more."

More staring.

"And it takes three weeks to make."

Bunny looked as if he couldn't believe this was happening. "...What?"

"I am sorry, Bunny."

"But...but _why_?!"

"I did not think it would take this long to rescue Jack," said North simply.

More staring.

Finally, Jack stood up. "Right. We'll deal with that problem in a bit. But now, I need some more coffee. Anyone joining me?"

* * *

 **A/N: Jack has many issues. He also appears to have an addiction to coffee. Ah, well.  
**

 **Also, Bun-Bun is an idiot.**

 **...North too.**

 **Notes Time!**

 **1-And here you finally get introduced to Samantha Donovan. She's named after both Sally Donovan from _Sherlock,_ and Samantha Carter from _Stargate SG-1_. I know she probably seems a little flat, but I'm still figuring out her personality. Plus, she was only around for a minute or so. **

**2-A pangolin is a creature that looks a lot like a small, scaly anteater. It rolls up in a ball when threatened, with the scales pointed outwards.**

 **3-Erutrepa doesn't deal just with chemistry and anatomy, it also deals with technology. The** **Erutrepa Science Magic-Suppressor and Revealer is just one of their many technological inventions. It's essentially a thin bracelet that prevents a spirit from accessing their magic. A side-effect of this is that the spirit also becomes visible to humans, as their magic is what makes them invisible to non-believers.**

 **4-Vandalizing files is just one of the many ways S.O.B. staff subtly rebel against their situation. Like I said, they're all passive-aggressive.**

 **5-I know that this whole episode with Jack seems incredibly OOC, but hear me out:**

 **Before Erutrepa, this behavior would have indeed been OOC. I see pre-Erutrepa Jack as the type of person who doesn't anger easily, but when he does, he fiercely fights to the last. He doesn't lash out at everyone around him, but when the situation calls for it, he can be incredibly stubborn and won't back down easily.**

 **Post-Erutrepa, though, is a different story. Sector 3 is, in short, hell. The staff there are forced to witness and commit unspeakable acts, one after another, without being able to protest in the slightest. It's maddening.**

 **If North had been traumatized from staying there for two weeks, how would Jack feel after being stuck there for _six months?_ Even if he's never been on one of the operating tables (which is not really the case hehehe), that doesn't mean he didn't suffer a lot psychologically. He's alone, he's powerless, he's scared, and he's continually disgusted with himself and with the things he has to do and condone. **

**After six months, it's not unreasonable to assume that he might have changed quite a bit.**

 **Post-Erutrepa Jack is, therefore, quick to anger, but quick to back down. In episodes similar to what occurred here, sometimes all the anger and disgust he's forced to continually push down simply boil over at what might seem like minor triggers. However, before he is able to go into a full-on rant, his guilt kicks in, and he simply gives up the fight because he thinks, _what's the point? It's not like I'm innocent either. It's not like I have a right to complain._ Emotionally, post-Erutrepa Jack is therefore incredibly unstable, as he keeps swinging between indignant/frustrated anger and guilt-induced depression.  
**

 **It'll only get worse as time goes on.**

 **...Also, remember something from Ch.1? " _He closed his eyes, just as the last of his center crumbled to ashes_"? I'd like you all to think about that one, just for a bit.**

 **6-The potion wearing off is a problem, because once an intern enters, they can't ever leave. And as a spirit, suddenly loosing your human disguise in Sector 3 is...not a good idea. At all. Bad North.  
**

 **...Review?**


End file.
